


Conflict

by SpaceClams



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Dreams, F/M, Force Bond (Star Wars), Inappropriate Use of the Force, POV Rey (Star Wars), Post-Star Wars: The Last Jedi, Reylo - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-18
Updated: 2019-12-18
Packaged: 2021-02-26 06:08:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,713
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21844921
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SpaceClams/pseuds/SpaceClams
Summary: Dealing with difficult thoughts and memories via a dream with (maybe) company?
Relationships: Kylo Ren & Rey, Kylo Ren/Rey, Rey & Ben Solo | Kylo Ren, Rey/Ben Solo, Rey/Ben Solo | Kylo Ren
Comments: 4
Kudos: 17





	Conflict

**Author's Note:**

> In 1 Hour I'm going to see Rise of Skywalker in 3D! I started this star wars fanfic a few months ago... but I know that I will want to change it after having seen Episode IX. So, just to celebrate that I'm watching Episode IX I thought I'd publish this part of the fanfic that I might write in the future heh. 
> 
> -  
> This text was technically hard to write. I hope it doesn't read as such heh. Like I had to find an English teacher and ask a few questions about grammar to write it. XD So if no one likes it, at least I got something out of it haha. But IF you loved it, please feel free to leave a comment. :D

Once there had been only the single line upon the wall. Then there were a thousand. Finally, there was an infinite number of days scratched into the walls of her durasteel home. Her fingers grew old and crooked. Her cries turned into dry and silent rasps in the back of her throat. They left her behind, again and again. But their faces were lost to her. She cried after them as a child, as a woman, screamed as something unrecognizable. But there was no answer from anyone. The nightmare wouldn’t end. And she was so tired, so sad, so hungry and she was,  
“So lonely... So afraid to leave. At night...” Her breathing was labored. Her gaze, drilling holes into the wall turning away from that face, that forced intimacy. But his deep voice was there, calm, so close to her, mocking her pain. Rey frowned.  
“...desperate to sleep. ” She shouldn’t allow herself to be afraid of him now, not anymore. She knew that he was just a man and not a machine nor a monster devoid of all emotions. No matter how hard he tried to be. He was still human, and that had given her hope. But now it just made her angrier. How dared he. How could he think so highly of himself, and so lowly of others? She can feel his cruel breath carefully whisper against her cheek. She can feel glowed fingers comb the strands of her hair.  
  
“You imagine an ocean.” He mumbles. Her limbs can’t escape from the cold restraints keeping her down. Yet again she is stuck in a hopeless situation. Being treated like she has no voice, no will of her own, no importance. She can’t bite down on her desperation any harder so she turns her head towards him instead. What had he looked like at this moment? His eyes are filled with a poorly veiled sorrow that she recognizes. They are filled with the compassion that she had always longed for. “I see it...” His words are weak, stumbling out of his mouth as if he didn’t want to admit them. He swallows, and his breath and his face are too close and she can’t decide, can’t comprehend if this is a mockery or a misunderstanding. “I see the island.” Her eyes won’t blink, only stare into his until her own burns and her own face is looking back at her from the black emptiness. In the dark mirror, she was breaking into weeping as loneliness had swallowed her whole. She was so cold. She clasps the blanket snugly around her and leans closer to the fire. She finally blinks, and he is sitting opposite to her. Relief flows through her as he is vibrating in the air, close enough to touch.  
  
It had been easy to start telling him the story of what happened. With Luke. And the cave. Easier than it should have been. He was a good listener. Taking in more than most would suspect. His eyes are damp with unshed tears. Listening to her voice, her attempt at putting her pain into words. Or perhaps it is his own memories, bleeding into the moment, tormenting him. Perhaps this is when that loneliness had become too familiar. Why had she even been mad before? He was right here open in front of her and had always been to some point, had he not? She blinked again and felt a tear slowly pearl down her cheek. It was difficult to think, to remember anything but this. “I never felt so alone.” She explains.  
  
“You’re not alone,” he whispers silently, a statement as true as any could ever be. It is frail in the air between them, but it touches every inch of her body. “Neither are you.” She whispers back, a promise. One that she has decided to keep. “It isn’t too late.” The hairs are standing up on her neck, and slowly she is reaching out from underneath her blanket. He tears his glove off and reaches for her hand. His fingertips brush against hers and pure, warm elation jolts through her body. Suddenly his eyes are unveiled. The doubt, the agony, the longing, and the loneliness. The ambition, the anger, the curiosity. All are ripples on his surface. But there is more. She wishes that it could have continued. That he could have seen exactly what she had seen, feel the truth of it take hold in his body. The two of them, side by side, together. She clasps his hand between her own, smiles and closes her eyes, trying to write this moment into her memory forever. At this moment, she could believe that she would never be alone again, he would never leave her side and he would be there no matter the darkness that threatened them. They’d win, no matter what obstacle dared stand in their way.  
  
A gentle tickle hum in her skin as his thumb is drawing a small circle in her palm. Slowly her heartbeat eases into a hard, steady rhythm. Until his fingers lightly slide past into her wrist. A violent jolt flashes through her body again, pinching her nerves. Suddenly she is aware that the cold and the rain has given her a burning fever. It is spreading through her body like wildfire. She tries to breathe calmly and reaches into the sleeve of his uniform with trembling fingers. Careful because his skin is thin and sensitive there. She wants to open her eyes. But something sour claws at her throat so she keeps them closed. She doesn’t want him to see how pale she must have turned, her face feeling drained. She doesn’t want it ruined. Why couldn’t she have this in her life? There were answers to that, good ones. But they all seem like faint whispers from long ago. She blinks until her eyes agree to remain open. His eyes are on her, studying her. He is thinking hard about something that he doesn’t share with her. The air is salted with his heavy thoughts, too far away to be heard. He swallows and whispers something containing her name. She is summoned by the word. She stands up and her stomach turns.  
  
As she gently steps closer to him, she drops his arm and his face falls. Her hands are covered in the white light of a first order ship, as she extends them towards him and clasps his shoulders. “I can’t hear you.” She mumbles. He is looking up at her, eyes forced wide open. He tries to say something. But his mouth won’t move. She still can’t hear him. His black hair is silky smooth between her fingers, and his forehead falls against her abdomen. A sigh settles over him. Joy fires off inside her body as he pulls her close - like the real one never would. There should have been no Luke interrupting them. No Snoke infiltrating their minds and manipulating them. There should have been just the two of them, undisturbed, together.  
  
His hands travel along her back and into her hair, pulling her face down towards his. It feels good to let him do it. She realizes that she is smiling like a fool as he breathes her name into her ear. She is laughing soundlessly as he mumbles something into her temple. It is too much. It is so embarrassing. But also intoxicating. Her eyes are closed again, like a weak shield. His naked hand, wet from the rain in her hair, gently caress her cheek. Then her neck. She shivers. “So cold” She mumbles at nothing in particular.  
“I’m sorry,” he whispers and places a gentle kiss on the cheek he just touched. It feels numb afterward. As if he had stunned her there. She’d seen that before. Loving parents kissing the fat cheeks of their children. But this is something else. Is it good or bad or something other than that? Her smile melts away as her body goes hot and limp, the fever taking hold of her arms and legs. She feels so weak. Scared, she struggles to slowly open her eyes yet again and she looks down into his face. His eyes are salty mirrors and longing, too many thoughts spinning in the air between them. There is something that she wants to say. Perhaps tell him how beautiful he is or how good he feels like this. How much she wishes, how much she wants. But none of that comes out of her mouth.  
  
“Stay,” she whispers slowly. Pleading, as the warm yellow light of her little campfire, plays over the surface of their skin again. He sighs yet again, trying to shake off a feeling or thought that keeps bothering him. She closes her eyes to feel that breath against her skin before it could be lost forever. She stays unmoving, calm until his lips brush gently against hers. He is brimming with trepidation. It is seeping through his skin. She swallows nervously and waits. His breath is shorter now against her mouth. His hands tremble as they move over her neck and down over her shoulders.  
  
She smiles against him, and maybe she felt him smile too. Then he gently kisses her upper lip. Then he slowly moves to kiss her lower lip. Then he settled somewhere in the middle and stays there. His fingers moving up again to fiddle with her hair. Slowly his thumb moves across her cheek towards her mouth as he angles his head to the side. She knew this. The teenagers on Jakku. Boys she’d tried to befriend, some of them cute. Mocking and teasing her. Trying to put her down. After she’d tasted their kisses and dreams. They had all turned to ashes in her mouth. But Ben's thoughts echo in her head now as if spoken straight into her ear. How he’d not betray her. How he is begging for her to want him, to feel him, to stay with him. Her body is like jelly. She cannot move, cannot breathe. When she slowly opens her mouth she can taste his breath, she can fill her lungs with that steaming air. Then his mouth is soft against hers again, his lips, his tongue gentle as he carefully explored what would please her. Yes, this had been what she had wanted, before it had been ruined. She is consumed. Tired beyond sleep but excited with pulsating adrenaline. It is reflected in him, amplified in the strings tying them together.  
  
What would he feel like? To touch, to taste and to explore. She’d had so little of this and it wasn’t fair. Not knowing every detail of what it is like to be with someone, someone that understood, hurt. To not have what so many others had. She lets the strands of his hair slide between her fingers. Then she closes her fists tight. The hair twang as she increases the tension. His head is pulled back with it and his sigh whisper against her lips again. She longs to fall into that pleasure, far away from the world. She lets go of her grasp and leans towards him again. Kissing him back in a way that seems much too hard and sloppy. He is moving with her, forgetting everything but this. His hands slide down her back slowly towards her hips and he pulls her body flat against him. He is warm. He leans over her, and she realizes that they are both standing now. And she is small as she is placed with her feet between his. Her legs are touching his, her chest leaning into his. Her lungs are burning so she pulls back from him, breathing in deep haggard breaths. She is burning, and she is hot and sweaty as if she has run across the highest dunes. As if she’d battled. Her eyes sting as she opens them again. His eyes are there immediately, close, filled with that same intense longing. Filled with something that must be want and something that seems like greed. It makes her uncomfortable again. He caresses her gently along her spine, but it is different now. Suddenly she is shivering. He smiles as he leans in and gently kisses her neck. Then he does it again, persistently. His hands tying into knots in the back of her shirt. Behind him, the throne room is a savage battleground. Covered with blood, bodies, and fire. There stand the window device Snoke used to show her the resistance ships as they were being shot down. Her body slowly locks into a harsh and stiff cramp again. She cannot move, hardly breathe. She feels him hesitate, failing to soothe her. His hands come up to touch her face. They are cold and somehow covered in his gloves again.  
  
“Please,” he whispers. The sound is barely audible but still, it cuts her. He turns to look into her eyes but she turns away. She doesn’t want to meet that gaze right now. It would only be filled with disappointment. Judgment. Perhaps anger. It is not what she wanted from this. Rey set her jaw as fury started to join the fire raging in her body. She is more furious than she had allowed herself to be in a long time. She puts both her hands onto his broad chest and pushes him down. He falls back softly onto his bed back in the cottage from his memories. He is wearing that white wrap-shirt. His eyes look younger. He is surprised. Nervous. Curious. A few years younger than herself instead of a few years older. He doesn’t have the familiar scars.  
  
“Are you afraid of me?” She doesn’t know why she needs to ask him. But she does.  
“Perhaps…Sometimes…” His mumble is barely perceivable. This is not something he is used to contemplating. It puts him on edge. Rey smiles and swings her leg over him. Soon she is straddling his hips.  
“You like this.” He continues, a faint smile on his face. His bare hands find her knees, her thighs. She hates her pants. Her arm wraps are gone somewhere, but her tunic isn’t.  
“Do you?” She asks him. She laughs as she grabs the hem of her top, slowly pulling it up over her head. She is pleased when he fails to answer. His breathing getting heavier, his hands sliding up over her hips. His thumbs moving over the edge of her pants. She tosses the shirt and puts her hands on his chest. Leaning over him.  
“Or do you prefer to fight me?” His hands glide over her bare back, feathering over her breastband.  
  
“Rey,” he whispers, his gaze traveling over her body. It emboldens her even more. She is smiling as she kisses him again. She loses track of time. As he is squeezing her tightly against his body, devouring her mouth. She gets up again to tear off her breastband and gasps as his hands move over her breasts.  
“Rey,” he pleads as she is grinding against him. She curses at him when he flips her over. His shirt is gone and her scar is there again on his face. She traces it with her fingers as he lays down between her legs. Her pants are gone. He is heavy as he kisses her into the smooth pillows. Her struggle to breathe under him is sweet and wonderful.  
“Don’t shut me out. Rey.” Her name is a moan on his lips as she kisses his neck. She is broken somehow. Insatiable. The black of his bedroom makes his pale skin stand out. She never knew that she could find it so beautiful.  
“Ben,” She whispers, lost to the feeling of his fingers caressing the inside of her thigh.  
“What?” He asks. His hand is on her breastbone now. He is looking at her face. Drunkenly he is trying to study it. She looks at him between her lashes.  
“What?” she repeats the question. Turning it over in her mouth. It is supposed to mean something. Isn’t it? She blinks and has to cover her eyes with her hands for a while. She has to breathe, she can’t breathe.  
“What happened?” She asks. But she is alone. She is asleep.


End file.
